Abra Cadabra
by some1lostme
Summary: A creepy magician enacts revenge on Grissom by taking something of great importance to him. I know it sounds really cliche, but it's good, promise. GSR. One-shot fic. Please R&R.


**Disclaimer: So none of these characters belong to me unless they're totally fictional. I can't take full credit for the storyline either cause my friends definitely helped. Thanks Guys.**

**Spoilers: Abra-Cadaver (S 3), Play With Fire (S 3), and others**

For Gil Grissom, Wednesday night's shift started like any other. He had arrived an hour before the rest of his team, grabbed a cup of not-so-fresh coffee, and locked himself in the quiet of his office.

Less than thirty minutes later Sara Sidle arrived. She avoided the coffee in the break room and headed straight to Grissom's office.

"Hey."

"Hi," Grissom said, looking up from his pile of paperwork, "Something I can do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm headed out. I need to go over the scene of my rape case again. I won't be in the meeting."

Grissom nodded, his attention falling back to the file open on his desk. Sara stood in the doorway for a minute waiting for some kind of verbal response. _Apparently I don't get that much of a courtesy, _she thought. She turned to go.

"Don't go alone," Grissom said suddenly, causing Sara to turn back toward him.

"What?" she asked, hoping he would offer his assistance.

"Take a uniform with you," he told her, "The scene isn't safe. You shouldn't be there alone."

The blatant lack of concern in his voice made her heart clench. She nodded to him, not ready to share with him the courtesy he wouldn't show her, and walked away from the office.

Catherine Willows arrived at the lab at the exact same time that she did every night. She dropped her things in the locker room and met up with Nick and Warrick in the break room. The three CSIs sat at the table and waited for their supervisor.

"Anyone seen Sara?" Warrick asked.

"I checked the lab and trace and I can't find her," Nick said, "She's late."

"And I'm sure that she'd never hear the end of it," Grissom said from the doorway behind him, "I hate to break it to you, Nick, but Sara's been and gone. She's at her scene working her rape case."

"Damn," Nick muttered, "I'd love to have heard her explanation."

"I'm not sure that she'd even give you one," Catherine said over the rim of her coffee cup, "Sara's been acting sort of. . . defensive lately."

"Maybe would shouldn't be talking about her when she's not here to defend herself," Warrick said, "She'd bitch if she found out."

Nick and Catherine laughed but Grissom was ready to begin. He handed a case description to Nick, "Hit and run in Mesquite. You're on your own."

He turned to Warrick and Catherine, "You two are with me. Triple homicide in Clark. Let's go."

Grissom stood in the residence of Gavin and Heather Monroe. Brass was somewhere behind him speaking to their only eye witness, Tracy Garrison. Ms. Garrison had discovered the bodies of Gavin, Heather and Bethany Monroe when she'd come to pick Bethany up for school.

"Bethany Monroe," Catherine said to Grissom as he entered the young girls bedroom, "Twelve years old. No signs of sexual assault."

"Cause of death?" Grissom asked.

"Off the top of my head? Blunt force trauma to the back of her neck. It's definitely broken."

"Right, finish up and hand her off to David," Grissom told her, "I need you in the bedroom."

"Sounds like fun," Catherine said, smiling as Grissom shook his head.

He turned and headed toward the master bedroom. When he entered, his eyes fell on the two bodies lying mutilated on the bed. He paid careful attention to the blood spatter as he moved closer.

"Lacerations on every inch of visible flesh," Warrick reported, "I've got pictures of everything, blood samples from the floor and walls as well as a mysterious fiber from the floor."

Grissom's cell phone began to ring.

"Good, have Greg put analysis on VIP," Grissom instructed as he put the phone to his ear, "Grissom."

The sound of a blunt object connecting with human bone greeted him. Grissom froze. The sound came again and he flinched as though he himself had been hit. The other noises became drowned out as the phone on the other end was smothered with something. He could hear muffled footsteps and cries of pain. Nausea washed over him then. He glanced down at the phone number on the screen of his phone. _Sara._

"Sara! Sara, can you hear me?"

Warrick turned around. Grissom had moved into the hallway and was practically yelling into his cell phone. Warrick followed Grissom as the other man moved down the hall, stilling calling out to Sara over the phone. Catherine joined them in the hallway. Grissom continued walking, his pace increasing as he went.

"Gil!" Catherine snapped, "What the hell is going on?"

Grissom didn't respond as he climbed behind the wheel of the Tahoe. The call suddenly disconnected and he was listening to a dial tone. He turned the engine over as Catherine and Warrick climbed into the car.

"Sara's in trouble."

The Tahoe jerked to a stop in front of Sara's crime scene and the three CSIs climbed out of the SUV. Brass' Taurus pulled up behind them and he never once asked for an explanation. Guns drawn, they moved toward the front door of the house.

"She had a uniform with her right?" Catherine whispered, glancing at Grissom.

He nodded silently.

Grissom scanned the area, his instinct as an investigator taking over. It was dark, but he saw nothing moving. The light on the front porch was on and the door was cracked slightly. As he went to step on the sidewalk, Catherine held an arm out to stop him. At his puzzled look, she pointed to the ground, "Blood. It's still wet."

Catherine knelt down to take a sample of the blood as the three men moved cautiously toward the porch.

Grissom noticed the body first. He wanted to run, to check and make sure that it wasn't Sara lying there unconscious or worse, dead. Warrick and Brass beat him to it.

"It's officer Walters," Brass announced.

"He's dead," Warrick confirmed, checking for a pulse.

A thousand emotions ran through Grissom as he pushed the door open further. He stepped into the living room, obviously the last place Sara'd been, the blood and lights confirmed that. He moved further into the house, praying that he'd find her breathing, conscious or not he didn't care, as long as she was still alive.

"Sara!" he called, hoping for any type of response.

He got nothing.

"She's not here, Gil," Catherine said, entering the house behind him, "Her kits still here, her car is gone and I found a hair sample in the blood on the sidewalk, root still in tact. Color and length suggest a match to Sara."

Grissom looked down at Sara's kit sitting beside the couch. The lid was open and her latex gloves lay on top of it.

"Bag the gloves," Grissom ordered, "It's possible that Sara left them for us."

"If she touched the guy, we've got epithelials."

"Exactly," Grissom told her, turning to go back outside, "And check the kit for it's contents."

"What am I looking for?"

"I'll let you know when you find it."

Grissom stepped out onto the porch and Warrick noticed a visible line of sweat along his forehead.

"You all right Gris?" he asked.

"Find anything on the guard?" Grissom asked, avoiding the question.

"Nothing we've never seen before," Warrick said, kneeling beside the body, "Laceration to the jugular was visible, stab wound to the left of the spine between the shoulder blades and one in the left side, both covered until I moved the vic."

"Stabbed twice in the back to the left of the spine," Grissom summed up, "Killer may be left handed."

"I'll have Doc Robbins check when he does the autopsy."

"Good."

Grissom turned to examine the trail of blood leading from the doorway to the edge of the sidewalk.

"She was dragged to her car," Grissom said, speaking to no one in particular, "Attacked inside, more than likely unconscious. He startled her, hit her in the head with something. I heard that much."

"But when did she have time to take off her gloves?" Catherine asked from behind him.

Grissom turned around, "Maybe he took them off for her."

Catherine shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. Kit's clean, everything's present and accounted for."

"What about the article?" Grissom asked.

Catherine gave him a curious look, "What article?"

"A few weeks ago, Sara and Warrick worked a case at a casino," Grissom explained, "The wife of a musician killed herself in the hot tub. There was an article about her the next day in the paper. Sara's been carrying it in her case since I showed it to her."

"Didn't find it," Catherine told him, still eyeing him curiously.

"Let's check the rest of the house, make sure that she wasn't trying to tell us something," Grissom said, moving past Catherine into the house again.

"Do you really think she would?" Catherine asked, joining him inside.

"Sara's smarter than you give her credit for, Catherine," Grissom said solemnly, "She'll do whatever she can to keep herself alive."

When Sara finally woke up, she didn't remember much of what had happened to her. She scanned the interior of her darkened car and she glanced at the driver. She recognized him but couldn't put a name to his face. She was in so much pain. She began to squirm against her seatbelt and the man beside her laughed.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you. Handcuffs, Sara," he said, watching her flinch at the sound of her own name.

She jerked herself forward again. She fell back against the seat and moaned in pain.

"Don't make it any worse on yourself. I had to hit you pretty damn hard back there, your head probably hurts like hell. But that's what happens when you're stubborn, Sara."

"Go to hell," she snapped.

He laughed at her, "I've been there nearly a year now. There's absolutely no way I'm going back. We'll die first."

Grissom found the newspaper clipping he'd given Sara stuck to the refrigerator with a banana magnet, a message scrawled across the front in red ink:

"I'll kill her for you."

"Look familiar?" Catherine asked.

She watched as Grissom examined the evidence with shaking hands. He placed the article in an evidence bag she held out to him. He didn't seem to be all there.

"Gil?"

"When we figure out who this guy is," Grissom said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm going to kill him."

Catherine didn't say anything as she watched him walk away. She was terrified. Never in all the years that she and Grissom had worked together had she heard him utter those words. Grant it, she'd never seen him casually flirt with a woman either, until Sara came along.

The phone on her belt rang and Catherine jumped. She held the phone to her ear.

"Willows."

"Cath, it's Nick. Hey, I'm at the lab. Brass paged me about twenty minutes ago, where the hell are you guys?" the younger CSI asked.

"We're at Sara's scene," Catherine explained, "Nicky, you need to get here as soon as you can."

"Why?" Nick asked, "Cath, what's going on?"

"Sara was kidnapped, Nick."

Nick pulled his Tahoe up beside Grissom's and got out of the SUV. He saw the night shift supervisor on his cell phone pacing back and forth beside Brass' car and avoided him. He found Catherine and Warrick processing the living room.

"Find anything?" he asked, his voice slightly panicked.

"What didn't we find?" Catherine asked, mournfully. "Blood, semen, food, alcohol. This carpet is disgusting. Not to mention the fact that we don't even know if this blood is Sara's. This just became a brand new crime scene."

"Yeah," Warrick muttered, "Right on top of an old one."

He turned off the UV light and Nick hit a light switch on the wall.

"So we don't have anything useful?" Nick asked.

"Muddy footprints in the kitchen are just about it," Catherine told him.

The three of them gathered their equipment and headed toward the door.

"So how's Gris?" Nick asked, "He looks pretty stressed."

"To say the least," Catherine replied. "Stress, worried, terrified, pissed. He threatened to kill the guy when we find him."

Both of the other CSIs stopped beside her and Catherine knew exactly what they were thinking, even though neither of them said a word.

"He's blaming himself," she thought aloud, "He assigned her the case and let her handle it solo. I think that, maybe, he thinks he could've prevented this if he'd have made one of us go with her."

"Or if he'd gone with her himself."

As they approached their supervisor, not one of them spoke. They waited for Grissom to hang up his cell phone before running through the short list of the evidence they'd collected.

"We've got shoe prints we lifted off the kitchen floor as well as one from the blood on the sidewalk," Catherine told him, "We're taking Sara's gloves to the lab to be processed as well as hair and blood samples we lifted from the sidewalk. I'll have Greg rush it."

"Just tell him it's Sara," Grissom said grimly, "He'll jump all over it."

"Yeah, and screw it all up," Nick replied, "If we tell him, he'll panic."

At that moment, Grissom's cell phone rang again. The group of them stood motionless for a moment, some how knowing that this call was about Sara. Grissom pulled the phone from his belt on the third ring and flipped it open without looking at the caller ID.

"Grissom."

"Mr. Grissom," a familiar voice said to him, "I think that I have something that you want."

Grissom didn't respond. He nodded to Catherine at her worried look and she exhaled slowly. She bent down, laying her field kit on the ground while she searched for something. When she was successful in finding it, she faced Grissom, handing him the small tape recorder. He took it from her, turned it on, and held it to the ear piece on his phone.

"And how can I get her back from you?" Grissom asked.

"Who said that I have any intention of giving her back, Mr. Grissom?"

"Call me Gil," he told the other man, "And what may I call you?"

"God."

"God?"

"Appropriate, you see, because at this very moment, I am playing God with your Miss Sidle. Her life is in my hands. With a flick of my wrist, she dies."

Grissom immediately stiffened at the thought of finding Sara's body, not _Sara. _

"All right, God, tell me what I can do for you."

Sara waited quietly in the corner, listening as her kidnapper spoke on his cell phone. She heard Grissom's name and had to resist the urge to scream for help. She sat and listened to their exchange and when her kidnapper disconnected the call, she closed her eyes again.

With her head resting against the wall behind her, Sara tried to assess the severity of her injuries. The throbbing pain in the back of her head implied that she'd been hit with a blunt object, which she already knew. Burning pains shot up and down the skin on her back and she knew that her body had been dragged across a rough surface and that her skin was raw and bruised. The fact that her hands were handcuffed behind her back explained the ache in her shoulders and when she breathed deeply, she discovered that she had a few broken and bruised ribs. _God, _she thought, _Please let me live through this._

The ride back to the lab was silent. Grissom had simply handed Nick his keys and climbed into the passenger seat of his Tahoe. He hadn't said a word to any of them since closing the car door and when they pulled into the LVPD parking lot, he disappeared into the building ahead of the others.

His office was dark and quiet. Finally he was alone for the first time since Sara had been taken, Grissom broke. He rested his forehead in the palms of his hands and closed his eyes tightly, feeling the onset of a migraine.

For months he had fought his emotions for Sara with logic. Now the logic was gone and all he wanted was her. He had so many things that had been left unsaid. He'd been rude to her in the process of hiding from her and they barely spoke now. He missed her humor and intelligence. He missed her, his _friend_ Sara. It wasn't that long ago that Sara had been the one person on his team he had trusted the most. He had known her for so long and he knew her so well. And she knew him better than anyone else. Boston had started their friendship and it had followed Sara to San Francisco and then to Las Vegas.

"Gil?"

Catherine's voice startled him from his thoughts and Grissom looked up to see her standing at his door.

"Come in," he muttered, resting his head back in his hands.

Catherine closed the door behind her and sat down across from Grissom. Whatever he felt he hid it well. She couldn't see his eyes as they were pressed into the palms of his hands. _So closed up, _Catherine thought, _You don't even have the courage to look at me do you, Grissom?_

"Look, Gil, I know that this is upsetting you. We're all worried about Sara, but this is becoming too much. I think you should step back from this case," she said it all quickly in order to keep him from interrupting her, "Let the rest of the team handle this."

"You're all involved in Sara's life, we're all her friends," he replied, still not looking at her, "I'm only as involved in this as the rest of you."

"No you're not," Catherine said bluntly, "You're in love with her. It's obvious now, Gil. You can't hide from it."

"Can't I? I thought I was doing a fine job until I knew she was gone," he told her.

His mind seemed to be somewhere else as he stopped speaking and focused on the something behind Catherine's head.

"If he hurts her Catherine. . ."

"We'll find him first," Catherine reassured him, "None of us are willing to let Sara go."

Grissom had eventually left his office and headed for the break room. His team, along with half the lab and dayshift, was sitting around the table there, the t/v in the corner showing the news report about Sara's kidnapping. As he approached the coffee pot, he reached up and turned off the television.

"I'm sure you all have more productive things to do in order to help Sara," Grissom said tersely, "You aren't paid to watch t/v."

No one spoke but a look of guilt spread through all of them. The team remained seated at the table with dayshift and only a few of the lab techs turned to go.

"I've got a match!"

Grissom turned around as Greg announced his arrival. A lab printout was held out before him and Grissom took it from Greg's shaking hand.

"Zephyr Dillinger," Grissom told her, "The magician."

Grissom examined the paper as well as the lab tech, "Did you match the epithelials to Sara's gloves or did you get a hit off the prints?"

"Both," Greg explained, "The print was only a partial but we had them on file. Had his DNA, too."

"Good," Grissom said quietly, "At least I know who we're dealing with."

"Grissom, this means that Sara's kidnapping has something to do with you," Catherine said, "I mean, you worked lead on Zephyr's case, didn't you?"

"Yes, but Sara and Warrick both worked with me," he told her.

He was about to sit down beside Catherine and Nick when his cell phone rang for only the third time that night. He pulled it from his belt and glanced at the screen.

He turned to Catherine, "It's him."

Catherine dug around in her purse for a moment before handing him the small tape recorder again. Grissom set the thing to record and held it and his cell phone to his ear. The room fell completely silent.

"Grissom."

"Mr. Grissom, so good to speak to you again," Zephyr's voice greeted him, "And how are you so very early this morning?"

"I'm well, and yourself Mr. Dillinger?"

"Ah, I see that you found my clue, very good."

"We're trained professionals, Zephyr, nothing gets overlooked," Grissom told him, "I also found a lot of Sara's blood. I need to speak to her, Zephyr. I need to know that she's alive before I can continue playing your little game."

"This is no game, Mr. Grissom," Zephyr snapped, "If I don't get what I want, your _CSI_ dies."

"Zephyr, let me speak to Sara as a sign of good faith," Grissom attempted to bargain with him, "I can't give you anything until I know that she's alive."

When Zephyr didn't respond, Grissom was worried that they'd been disconnected. He glanced at his phone which told him that they hadn't.

"Zephyr?"

The voice that responded to him nearly made his heart break.

"Grissom? Grissom, it's Zephyr, it's Zephyr Dillinger."

"I know. God, honey, are you all right?"

As he sat down, he noticed his teams reaction to his sentiment. He gave no acknowledgment of it, he didn't care what they had heard. Sara was alive and capable of speech, that was enough to give him hope that he'd get her back.

"I'll live," she told him. He heard her take a ragged breath, "Grissom, there's something that I have to tell you, but I'm scared."

"Don't be, Sara, I'm listening."

"I love you, Grissom-" His pulsed was racing. "I've known for so long and I was so afraid to tell you. But, the night that we found Ashleigh James, I knew how much you meant to me. I'm so scared."

Her words immediately registered in his mind and he reached for a pen and a piece of paper. He jotted down the ideas in his head and threw a glance at Catherine as he spoke his next few words, "I understand, Sara. And I love you, too."

"Grissom, please, help-"

The call was suddenly disconnected and Grissom threw his cell phone aside. He slid the tape recorder to Archie who stood at the end of the table and began barking out orders, "Archie, I want a full break down of that tape. I want to know if there are trains nearby or if you can hear cars or people in the background. Go, now."

Archie turned and practically ran the tape recorder back to his lab. Grissom was growing impatient with the rest of the staff as they stood in the break room and watched him.

"Get back to work."

The lab techs as well as the dayshift cleared out of the break room and left Grissom to be bombarded by his team.

"What the hell is going on?" Catherine asked, obviously in shock at the conversation she'd overheard.

"Is she all right?" Warrick and Nick asked together.

"If you all stop and think clearly, I'll explain," Grissom said coolly, leaning forward on the table.

He watched as Warrick, Nick and Catherine leaned forward as he had, all of them waiting for his explanation.

"Sara's fine, in pain, but she's alive and that's all that matters now," he began. "I don't have to explain anymore of what was said. But, Sara's smarter than we give her credit for. From wherever she's being held, she can see a billboard of Ashleigh James. Either that, or she's in the vicinity of where we found Ashleigh."

"Ashleigh James' case was more than a year ago, Gil," Catherine told him, "How do you know that's where she is?"

"Sara mentioned Ashleigh James' case," Grissom explained, "There wasn't much more said, Zephyr disconnected the call."

Sara had meant what she said. She loved him and he knew it now, if she died, at least he knew. She closed her eyes again and tried to picture Grissom's face in her mind. She was unsuccessful as the first wave of naseau rushed through her. She leaned over and threw up on the floor beside her.

Zephyr appeared on stage and smiled at her, "I see that the anesthesia is kicking in."

"Oh, God, what the hell are you going to do to me?"

"Well, Miss Sidle, I need a new assistant for my show, the last few girls I've had have. . . disappeared."

Sara fought the urge to vomit again as Zephyr wheeled a familiar looking glass box onto the stage. He opened the door, jumped off stage, and approached Sara's now very numb body.

Warrick knocked on Grissom's office door. The supervisor looked up at him with tired eyes and motioned for him to enter the office.

"Four billboards left in town with Ashleigh James' face on them," Warrick told him, laying a report on the desk.

"Is Archie finished with the tape?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah, we were waiting for you."

"Good, let's go."

Grissom and Warrick entered the lab behind Catherine and Nick and Archie brought up his analysis of the screen for them.

"Right," Archie began, "Grissom, you're voice one, Sara's voice two, and I've got two other samples on the tape."

Archie played the original recording for them.

"Nothing stands out here, but if I cut out both Grissom and Sara-" Archie shut off voices one and two "-we've got a train in the background. Also, what sounds like a car engine."

"Archie, filter out the train."

He did as Grissom asked and the listened to the final noise.

"That's a diesel engine," Nick said, "Warehouse district. They all unload there."

"Right, Warrick, double check the billboard locations with train tracks and a large amount of warehouses," Grissom told him, "Nick, I want you and Catherine to go to the scene of the Ashleigh James case, take a look around, see if there's anywhere that Zephyr could be holding Sara, I'll call you if Warrick gets a hit on the billboards."

"What are you going to do?" Catherine asked him.

"I'm going to help Warrick," he told her, "I have the exact time of the call, I'll call the train stations and see where there was a train passing through. I'll cross check that with Warrick's hit on the billboards."

Warrick knocked on Grissom's door for the second time that night and the night shift supervisor didn't look up as he waved him in. Warrick took a seat across from Grissom.

"Didn't you find a location at the time of the call?" he asked.

Grissom nodded, still not looking up, "Three trains passed through Vegas at the exact time that Sara called. Tracks on 14th street, Locus, and Fifth avenue."

"I've got an Ashleigh James billboard on the corner of Fifth avenue and March," Warrick told him, glancing at his notes.

"Good, I'll call Brass," Grissom said, reaching for his phone, "Round up Nick and Catherine, have them meet us there."

"Right," Warrick said. He stood and turned to leave Grissom's office.

"And Warrick?"  
He turned back to his supervisor.

"Get a piece of clothing from Sara's locker and meet me by the elevator in ten."

"Got it."

Grissom, Warrick and Brass pulled into an empty parking lot on the corner of Fifth Ave. and March St. where they were met by Nick and Catherine. Grissom pulled his Tahoe up beside Nick's and rolled down the window, "The P.D. should be here with the dogs any time now, when they show, we'll get started."

"Right," Nick said, "What's the vicinity we're working in?"

"Twenty block radius," Grissom replied, "We'll split up, each of us will take a dog team, Catherine'll go west, Warrick'll go east, you'll go north and Brass and I will go south. If Sara's here, we'll find her."

As he finished, four P.D. canine units pulled into the parking lot. The CSIs climbed out of their vehicles, Grissom split them up and their search for Sara began.

"Call me if you get anything!" Grissom called, running after his dog team while his CSIs went their separate directions.

Zephyr had Sara up on the stage within minutes of reaching her body. The drugs he'd given her had taken their full effect and Sara couldn't move her arms or legs. She felt drunk, very, very drunk. He had dropped her into a chair in front of the glass box he'd set up for his 'trick'. Sara stared at it, registering the few modifications that had been made to it since she'd last seen it. _When he killed his son, _Sara thought. She fought back the urge to vomit again.

She looked again into the box that would shortly become her coffin. Shackles had been installed into the top of the box and Sara knew that they were put there to hold her up as she couldn't do it herself. She also noticed the large slots that had been cut into the sides. She remembered the case that she had worked with Grissom and Warrick, when they had first encountered Zephyr. _The missing woman from the magic show, _she thought, _There was blood on the swords he used. _She had a feeling she'd be seeing those swords again, too.

"It seems that your Mr. Grissom couldn't put all of the evidence together, Sara," Zephyr taunted her, "He's running out of time."

Sara couldn't see Zephyr from her seat on the stage. She registered that he was somewhere behind the curtain, preparing for the act. Sara had noticed that when she'd woken up in the car Zephyr was lacking his 'show make-up'. He wouldn't put on a show without it.

She wanted to yell, to scream for help, but she knew that it wouldn't do her any good. Zephyr was smart enough to take her somewhere where no one would think to look for her. Besides, she probably wouldn't be able to form the words if she tried.

"Grissom."

He was out of breath and hunched over in an alley, cell phone to his ear again.

"Ah, Mr. Grissom," Zephyr sounded amused, "Having a little workout are we?"

"You could say that," Grissom said, checking his pulse as they spoke.

"Sad, really, more worried about your manly physique than the life of your loved one?" Zephyr said, "You have some real people issues, don't you Mr. Grissom?"

"Yes, well, Sara would know more about that than I would," Grissom replied, "She's been telling me that for years."

Zephyr laughed and behind the cackling noise, Grissom heard something excruciatingly important. A dog. A barking dog.

"You know what, Mr. Dillinger," Grissom said quickly, "I'll have to call you back."

Grissom disconnected his phone and called Catherine.

"Willows."

"Catherine, did your dog just bark?" Grissom asked.

"What? No, why?"

"Never mind, I'll call you back."

He disconnected their call and dialed Nick.

"Stokes."

"Did your dog just bark?"

"Gris? No, nothing," Nick replied, "Wh-"

He didn't get the chance to finish as Grissom hung up on him and dialed Warrick.

"Brown."

"Tell me your dog barked."

"Yeah," Warrick replied, "It was nothing though, just a cat."

"Where are you?" Grissom asked, already turning to head back to the parking lot where they had started.

"Corner of Baker and Second. Factory parking lot."

"Stay there," Grissom ordered, starting to run again, "And call Nick."

He disconnected their call and Brass was behind him again. Grissom dialed Catherine quickly, gave her Warrick's location and hung up. Sara was close.

Grissom, Catherine, Nick and Brass arrived at Warrick's location at approximately the same time, each of them a little out of breath.

"Hit off the car," Warrick told them as they walked across the parking lot, "Blue, Ford Focus, looks new."

"Didn't Zephyr take Sara's truck?" Brass asked.

"Yeah, but he must've dumped it and trade it for his own car," Nick theorized.

"Wouldn't Sara have tried to get away?"

"If she thought she could," Grissom said, "If she was drugged or she thought that she didn't have a chance, she wouldn't risk it."

"Let's open it up," Nick said, reaching for the handle on the passenger side door.

The door was unlocked and Nick leaned in to look around. He pulled a torn piece of blue cotton from where it had been caught in the seatbelt. Nick held the cloth out to the bloodhound that had tracked the car. The dog howled loudly at the scent.

"It's definitely your girl," the dog's handler told them.

"Then he's got her in there," Catherine said, nodding in the direction of the factory at the end of the parking lot.

Sara was helpless. Her entire body was numb. Nothing she could have said or done would have protected her from Zephyr Dillinger. As he attached the second shackle to her right wrist, Sara began to cry. Zephyr moved from her wirsts to her ankles, pulling off her boots and slacks. He then tied her ankles tightly together with some sort of colorful scarf. When he'd finished admiring his work from a distance, he moved toward Sara again, "I think this little set-up could use one more thing."

He moved his hand quickly, making a pair of scissors appear in his hands. He took another step toward Sara and began to cut her sweater in half.

"I'll show Mr. Grissom what he missed."

"Please," Sara whispered, "Don't do this."  
"Why, Ms. Sidle? What have you done to earn my pity?" Zephyr asked mockingly. He took a look at Sara bound in front of him. "You and Mr. Grissom ruined my life."

"You killed your own son," Sara choked.

"That's were you're wrong, Sara," Zephyr said, "My son willingly gave his life for me. He understood the laws of creation, Sara. _He who gives life shall take it away._"

Sara felt sick again as she watched Zephyr come toward her with the same scissors he'd used to destroy her shirt. He pressed one of the blades into Sara's abdomen and tears burned in her eyes as she saw blood on her skin. Her blood. Sara felt the blade as it pushed through her skin and she cried out in fear.

"You should be pleased, Ms. Sidle," Zephyr said, cutting her again, "Those morphine shots I gave you killed the pain."

Four LVPD patrol cars pulled into the factory parking lot beside the already present CSIs. Brass spoke with the officer in charge and informed Grissom that they were ready to begin.

"I want the four of you to stay back," Brass told them, "Guns drawn, and Gil, I have a piece you can-"

"I don't want a gun," Grissom interrupted, "Sara is my only priority right now, I'm leaving Zephyr up to you."

"Are you at least wearing a vest?" Catherine asked, glancing over at his statement.

Grissom nodded as the officer in charge gathered the group in front of the factory's main entrance.

"Hostage is one of our own," he began, "Sara Sidle. LVPD CSI level 3. Brunette. 5' 9", approximately one hundred and thirty pounds. Apprehending Zephyr Dillinger is our number one priority but Sidle's life is in our hands people. She is, under no circumstances, disposable. Take Dillinger out."

As the group entered the building, Grissom's pulse increased and he focused on Sara. There were ten officers in front of him, including Brass, along with three of his CSIs. The nightshift crew minus one. Somewhere inside this abandoned factory was there missing partner. Sara, his Sara, was living in her own personal hell. All he wanted now was to save her.

The sound of dogs tore Sara from unconsciousness. She still couldn't move, her body screaming at her in pain. She opened her eyes slightly as the barking moved closer. The stage around her was shrouded in darkness and she prayed that someone would see her. She opened her eyes wider and attempted to speak as the beam of a flashlight fell across the room.

"Help me," she breathed, "Please, God, help me."  
"We found her!"

Sara heard a female voice very near to her and then she heard someone running toward the stage. Help. She released a shaky breath and began to cry. A light was turned on over her head and she flinched as someone gasped then spoke.

"Oh god," now Catherine's voice registered in her head, "Call an ambulance! And find Grissom!"

"Catherine?"

"Yeah, Sara, I'm here," Catherine told her, her own voice shaking slightly. "Grissom's on his way honey. We're all here."

"No," Sara choked, "He can't see me like this, none of them can. Please, Catherine, get me out of here."

Catherine felt tears burn her own cheeks as she watched the pain register on Sara's face. She'd endured a lot the last few years, between the chaos of her cases, her fights with Grissom and the explosion, Sara had been through so much since she'd come to Vegas. The more she suffered, the easier it was for Catherine to understand the way that Sara was toward other people. She peeled off her CRIME SCENE windbreaker and wrapped it around Sara as her shackles were pried open with a crobar.

"Okay, Sara, okay," Catherine draped one of Sara's arms around her neck and turned to lead her off the stage as the paramedics entered the building with a gurney.

Sara willing crawled under the blankets of the gurney and let the paramedics strap her to the bed. She closed her eyes as the tears came again. Grissom was now moving toward her from the opposite side of the room, panic visible in his eyes. Catherine stopped him before he could get a clear view of her injuries and Sara silently thanked the other woman.

"Catherine, I need to see her."

"No, Gil, you have to wait. I checked her out on my own," Catherine told him, still blocking Sara from his line of sight. "She's hurt, badly, but she asked me not to let you see her. She's embarrassed."

Catherine's voice caught on her tears as she said the last word and Grissom knew that whatever she'd seen, it had been bad.

"What did he do to her?" he asked, anger ever present in his voice.

"Carved your name into her chest and stomach," Catherine told him, watching him flinch at her particular choice of words. "Do you have a pen and paper?"

Grissom found a pen and receipt in his jacket pocket and handed them to Catherine. She wrote out what Zephyr had carved into Sara's skin.

SHE LOVED YOU

GIL GRISSOM

Nick now stood to Grissom's left and Warrick was watching the paramedics as they began to take Sara from the room. Catherine watched the emotions play across Grissom's face and she wondered exactly what he was thinking. She didn't ask as he ripped up the receipt and shoved the pieces back into his pocket. He stood up abruptly and Catherine stood with him. The four of them began to move in the direction of their injured colleague, Warrick wondering out loud, "I wonder if Brass found Zephyr."

As quickly as the words had left his mouth, gun shots rang out around them. Grissom instinctively grabbed Catherine, shielding her from injury as Nick and Warrick both dropped to the ground. More shots were fired and Grissom heard a voice in front of him say, "Tell Grissom we got him."

He sighed in relief at Brass' message and he moved away from Catherine. An officer approached them from the direction of the parking lot and nodded to Grissom.

"We got Zephyr, Dr. Grissom," he told them, "The premises has been secured."

"Thank you."

When the team arrived at the hospital, Catherine was the only one the doctor would allow into Sara's room. This bothered Grissom to no end and it took a lot of persistence from Catherine to keep him in the waiting room with Nick, Warrick and Brass.

"I know how to handle this," Catherine told him, "I'll let her know that your here, if she wants to see you, I'll come get you. Gil, I know that you're worried, we all are, but I need to treat Sara like any other victim right now, I have to process."

"Sara isn't any other victim, Catherine."

She didn't reply. She glanced past Grissom to Nick and Warrick who seemed to share Grissom's feelings. Catherine sighed.

"You're right, I didn't mean that, it's just. . . I don't know how to deal with this any better than you, Gil. I'll talk to her, try to calm her down," Catherine told him, "She didn't want you to see her at the scene, but I'll try to convince her that you're only here to be with her."

Catherine turned to go, beginning down the hall way in the ICU to Sara's room.

"Catherine?"

Grissom's voice stopped her and Catherine turned to face him again.

"Tell her. . . tell Sara that I meant it, I meant what I said," Grissom said quietly, "Tell her that I love her."

Catherine smiled, "No, Gil. I'll let you do that yourself."

Catherine entered the room quietly, not sure whether Sara was awake or not, only to find her friend sitting upright in her bed.

"You look better," Catherine said, smiling as she sat beside Sara's bed.

"Thanks, I just. . . panicked back there," Sara told her, "I was, um, terrified."

"Completely understandable," Catherine said, "You had us pretty scared there, too."

"Us?"

"The team. Me, Nicky, Warrick and, definitely, Grissom."

Sara looked down at the bruises on her wrists. She held her right hand over her chest, attempting to stop the pain pulsing there.

"Sara?"

"It's all right, it just burns a little, that's all."

"The doctor said that you lost a lot of blood," Catherine said, noticing how pale Sara seemed to look. "He said he had to give you a few dozen stitches."

"Yeah, something like fifty five. I can't remember exactly."

Catherine smiled grimly. Sara was back to normal on the outside but Catherine knew better than to prejudge her. She knew that, on the inside, Sara was falling apart. She was good at keeping her personal life private.

"Sara, I realize that you just want all of this to be over, but I still have to ask you a few questions," Catherine said to her, "I need to process your hair and nails and I need to know if Zephyr-"

"He didn't rape me, Catherine," Sara said quickly, "The set-up was simply a show for Grissom. Zephyr didn't touch me."

"Not sexually anyway, right?"

Sara didn't reply. She held her hands out to Catherine, palms down, and waited for the investigator to reappear in front of her. But Catherine didn't move. She sat and stared at her and Sara felt the tears well up in her eyes.

"What's happening to me?" she blurted, "I'm so scared."

Catherine felt her own tears as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside Sara. She wrapped her arms protectively around the other woman and cried with her.

When Catherine emerged from Sara's room almost forty minutes later, she found the rest of the nightshift, CSIs as wells as Brass, Greg and Archie, sitting silently in the ICU waiting room. Grissom was the first one on his feet upon her approach. Catherine hesitated when Grissom noticed the tears in her eyes and inhaled sharply.

"What is it, Cath?" Warrick asked before Grissom could, "Is Sara all right?"

"She's fine," Catherine said, sitting down beside him. She watched Grissom sit back down across from her, "As fine as she can be for now. I collected trace from her fingernails and we have what was left of her clothes. I also confirmed that she wasn't sexually assaulted."

"How does she look?" Nick asked.

For a moment, Catherine was silent. She only stared at her own hands.

"Like a victim."

Sara lay silently in her room. A monitor to her left reported her heartbeat with soft clicks, the machine to her right pumped 50mg of morphine into her back through an epideral, and a bag of AB- hung from the same rack as her morphine drip. Catherine was right, she'd lost a lot of blood and, between that and the drugs, Sara was feeling a little light-headed. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach as she inhaled deeply and her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to see what had been done to her.

With her blankets around her waist and her hospital gown tucked under her breasts, Sara ran her hand over her bare stomach. The part of her body that she had once been the most proud of was now ruined and a reminder of what she'd gone through. Her usually smooth skin was now rough with scabs and stitches. Pale skin was now splotched with purple and sickly yellow bruises, and she could see a hint of dried blood here and there. She traced one of the shallower incisions that hadn't required stitches with her index finger and Sara felt the tears lodge themselves in her throat. She couldn't make out what it was that Zephyr had carved into her skin but Catherine's reaction at the scene had let her know that it was terrible.

A knock on the door to her room caused Sara to flinch a little and she hurriedly pulled her gown back down to cover herself. She turned to glance at the person entering her room and had to force herself to swallow her tears when she saw Grissom's face.

"Hi."

"Sara, I'm-"

"Please don't say you're sorry," Sara said quickly, tears running down her face, "Don't appologize for this Grissom, you didn't hurt me. . . but if you tell me that you're sorry for the things that you said, you'll be killing me."

Grissom didn't move. He stood stock still at the foot of Sara's bed, not sure what to say to her. He hadn't thought of what he would do when she brought that up, when Sara reminded him that he had made the heartfelt confession in a moment of panic. In reality, he thought that, if he didn't say it then, he wouldn't have had the chance. He hadn't planned on taking it back, he didn't want to. Gil Grissom was not a man of many words but the ones he did use had meaning to them. He took a small step closer to Sara's bed.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sara," he said, moving now to stand beside the bed, so close that he wanted to reach out to her. "I meant those things, honey. If hadn't meant it, I wouldn't have said it. I can't lie to you, Sara. I love you. And I would never appologize for the truth."

He leaned closer to her as Sara struggled to sit up. His hand grazed her face, gently brushing a strand of hair from her watery eyes.

"I didn't think that I'd ever get to tell you that," Sara told him, clinging to his hand, "And I never imagined that you'd say it back. . . God, Grissom, I was so scared."

"I know, honey, and I'm here now. I won't ever leave you, Sara."


End file.
